


FF #7: No More Illusions

by CJ_fics



Series: Olicity Flash Fic Challenge [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbroken Felicity, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity has rid herself of illusions about love. Especially when it comes to Oliver Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No More Illusions (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a sequel coming very soon — from Oliver’s perspective. I couldn’t include that here without going over the time limit.
> 
> Will post it up as soon as I finish it.
> 
> Apologies for the angst.

"I’m sorry, Felicity. I didn’t think about how having Laurel on the team would affect you. You and Oliver. Your relationship. I know how good you are for Oliver, and I don’t want that to stop," Sara said. She had been wanting to talk to the techie ever since she came back for a visit to check on Laurel’s progress and membership on the team, and saw the distance between Oliver and Felicity. She couldn’t help but that she was to blame for it. After all, she had asked Oliver to train Laurel because she couldn’t do it herself.  
  
"Not your fault, Sara," Felicity responds, sitting on her usual chair in the lair, looking the other woman who was standing by the opposite table in the eye.  
  
"No, I asked this of Ollie. Laurel wanted to help the Arrow and she needed to be trained, so I asked Ollie to accept her in the team. It was the least I could do for Laurel. You know what I’ve — we’ve, Ollie and I — have done to her. How I’ve — we’ve — hurt her. She needed to be part of this. Of Ollie’s life. She would have gotten involved even without the Arrow’s approval anyway. So I asked Ollie to train her, to include her in the team, and—"  
  
"And he couldn’t say no. Not to you, not to Laurel. I know that, Sara," Felicity interrupts.

She didn’t want to have this conversation. It was unnecessary. She’s always known that the Lance sisters had a hold on Oliver, on their Ollie, and he could never deny them anything they wanted. She didn’t blame either of the Lance sisters. She didn’t blame Oliver either. There was no one to blame. It was what it is.  
  
It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt though.  
  
She had shared a new closeness with Oliver over the past few months. A closeness that made her believe that they could have something _more_. That they could have a future together. He had been behaving as if he meant it when he told her loved her, that he was finally believing that he could be the kind of man that could love someone like her. She had began to hope that maybe, someday Oliver would love her back _for real_.  
  
Then Oliver came to her and Digg with the request from Sara and Laurel for Oliver to train Laurel to take Sara’s place on the team. Despite Digg’s very vocal objections to the idea, Oliver couldn’t say no to the request. It was then that Felicity realised that he would never let the hold the Lance sisters had on him go. He would always feel responsible for them, for being the object that caused one sister to betray the other. For fucking one sister when he was in a relationship with the other. He would always feel beholden to them, for better or for worse.  
  
So Felicity swallowed all the hope that she allowed to build in her heart in the past few months and the disappointment at the realisation that there would always be the Lance sisters for Oliver, and distanced herself from him.  
  
She didn’t want to talk about it. Any of it. But now Sara was confronting her with it. It had to stop.

"You know, I wrote a paper on _'The Nature of Love'_ in college. I had taken a summer course on the Philosophy of Love after my first two semesters in uni. My professors advised against me taking tech courses over the summer — something about MIT producing well-rounded individuals and not just science nerds. I was politely advised to take a non-tech course for the summer as an elective. And I couldn’t go back to Nevada — my mom had a new lover at the time and she told me, in not so many words, to make myself scarce then," Felicity says.  
  
Sara looks at her in confusion.  
  
"At that time, I needed to find a logical explanation as to why my mother never loved me. And why my dad left. I was having an insecure moment.  Well, up until that point, an insecure _life_. So I studied up on love. Read a whole load of books on it. This conversation reminds of me of that summer and that paper," Felicity further explains.  
  
"Did it help?" Sara asks.  
  
"Oh, yeah, loads. Well, at the very least I learned what love was and wasn’t about. I have no illusions."  
  
"And?"  
  
"One is either loved or not loved. One can never force or convince someone else to love them. No matter how good one is, it will never guarantee that one will be loved or more specifically, that one will be loved _back_.” Felicity smiles sadly at Sara, and continues.  
  
"It would have been nice to know that when I was younger, you know? Maybe I would have been a lazy sloth with bad grades but had a lot of fun instead of someone who tried everything to get her mother to love her back. Or someone who believed, naively, I might add, that if she had perfect grades and a full ride to MIT, that that would be enough for her dad to magically reappear and love her again. If had known that when I was a kid, I would have had more fun in high school, for sure."  
  
Sara looks at Felicity sadly. She couldn’t imagine being that girl. She had grown up knowing that her family loved her.  Before she can respond, the other woman adds:  
  
"Love is never a reward for being good. No matter how loyal one is, how trustworthy, how remarkable — it doesn’t mean that she’ll be loved by the person she loves and wants to receive love from," Felicity’s voice breaks.

She looks away from Sara. Sniffles, and then takes a deep breath. And then turns back, braced and ready to make her point.  
  
"The opposite is true as well, Sara. No matter how bad a person is, or how evil that person thinks they are, it doesn’t mean that that person will never be loved. Or that you are not loved. Oliver loves you. He loves Laurel. He will always love you. He will always love Laurel. It has nothing to do with whether or not you and her are good or bad. He loves you anyway."  
  
"And you?" Sara asks in a quiet voice, meeting Felicity’s eyes.  
  
"Oh, I kinda love you, too, Sara!"  
  
"That’s not what I meant, Felicity," Sara responds sternly, letting Felicity know that she will not allow her to joke her way out of this.  
  
With her eyes averted, Felicity says, “I know what you meant. And really, that’s not your concern, Sara. Whatever this .. thing with Oliver is … you shouldn’t worry about it. We’re good. I’m still here.”  
  
"He loves you, Felicity."  
  
"I thought he did. I’m sure in his own way, he does. Maybe. But again, nothing I can do will make him love me. So I’m not going to worry about it. You shouldn’t either."  
  
"I’m not worried about it. I _know_ he loves you, Felicity. And I’m happy about it. For you and especially for him! You have no idea the effect you have on him. How happy you’ve always made him. Even when we were together, Felicity, he would look at you with such affection, such happiness, such joy. He would say your name as if just saying it calmed him. Gave him such peace. He would turn to you as if you had all the answers in the universe … And I was so happy for him, for my friend, that he had found someone who could do that for him.”

Sara pauses before she continues.  
  
"When I found out that the two of you had been spending a lot of time together these past few months, I was elated. I had hoped that Oliver would finally allow himself to be with you. That he finally believed that he deserved to be with someone like you… That’s why I thought that I could ask him to train Laurel, to have her on this team. Because I thought the two of you were solid. It didn’t even occur to me that it would cause this rift between the two of you! And I’m sorry, Felicity. I am. Once again, I’m interrupting Oliver’s happiness — and that’s the last thing I want to do." At this point, Sara was unabashedly in tears.  
  
Felicity stands up from her chair to wrap her arms around Sara. “Ssh, ssh, it’s OK, Sara. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame Laurel. I don’t blame Oliver. It’s OK. It’s all right.”  
  
"I never wanted to hurt you, Felicity. Please believe that. You have been nothing but kind to me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry," Sara implores in a tiny voice, holding on to the smaller woman.  
  
"Sara, listen to me," Felicity takes a step backwards from Sara and hold the taller woman’s shoulders in her hands. "You have nothing to apologise for to me. Nothing, you hear? What’s happening between Oliver and I right now, it’s not your fault. It’s just me remembering the lessons I learned that summer and letting go of whatever naive illusions I might still have had about love. That Oliver would never love me the way he loves you and Laurel. That it would always be you and Laurel for him. Nothing I can do will ever change that. It’s no one’s fault, Sara. It is what it is."  
  
Felicity tries to keep her tears in, to keep swallowing the words that confirmed her broken heart, to be strong for Sara. But she couldn’t. So she turns away from the other woman to hold her own face in her hands. And she cries.


	2. No More Illusions (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver listens to Felicity's thoughts on love. And seeks to correct her assumptions about love and him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is bonus fic because I ran out of time with the Olicity Flash Fic challenge.

Sitting on top of the stairs, and staying there as he listened to Felicity cry was one of the hardest things Oliver Queen has ever had to do in his life. All he wanted to do was to fly down the steps, reach for her, fold her to his chest and just comfort her. Tell her he was sorry. Promise her that he would never make her cry again. Vow that he loved her, only her, and will do so for the rest of his life. Kiss her tears away, and say something witty and funny that would make her smile. Kiss her lips, devour her mouth, until she loses any doubt about his love for her. Make love to her so she would always, always believe the truth — that the idea of him loving her was not an illusion.   
  
He had to exert control over himself though. He knows she would feel embarrassed to know that he had heard most of the conversation she had with Sara and that he was now hearing her cry as if her heart was breaking.   
  
_Because it is, you dumbass. You broke it. You made her cry. Again._ He reminds himself to keep himself from rushing down the stairs and into her arms. The left hand he was rubbing on his face in frustration came away wet. _When had he started crying?_  
  
Her words, playing in a loop in his head as he sought to control the instinct to comfort Felicity with everything that he had, brought more tears.   
  
_"One is either loved or not loved. One can never force or convince someone else to love them."_

_"No matter how good one is, it will never guarantee that one will be loved or more specifically, that one will be loved back.”_   
  
_"Love is never a reward for being good. No matter how loyal one is, how trustworthy, how remarkable — it doesn’t mean that she’ll be loved by the person she loves and wants to receive love from."_   
  
_"It’s just me remembering the lessons I learned that summer and letting go of whatever naive illusions I might still have had about love."_

_"That Oliver would never love me the way he loves you and Laurel. That it would always be you and Laurel for him. Nothing I can do will ever change that."_

_"It is what it is."_  
  
When he told Felicity and Diggle about the request from Sara and Laurel about training Laurel to replace Sara on the team, he didn’t think it would hurt Felicity. He thought the two of them were moving at a slow and steady pace towards something more — and that she knew that. She didn’t say anything at that time. She had been too busy trying to calm Diggle down and stopping a potential fist fight between Oliver and Diggle over the idea of Laurel joining the team. Diggle had never been a fan of Laurel, specifically of her being what Diggle said was Oliver’s blind spot. Oliver thought he had proven that Laurel was no longer his blind spot to his team. He really didn’t think it was a big deal if he trained Laurel and had her be part of the team.   
  
He only realised how much he fucked up when Felicity ended Diggle’s very vocal objections with, _"John, stop. It will do no good to argue. Oliver won’t say no. He can’t. Not to Sara. Not to Laurel. Just, stop, OK?"_  
  
She didn’t even look at him, her eyes steady on Diggle. And then the two of them had this silent conversation they usually have (generally, when they were talking about him) and came to an equally silent agreement. Diggle left soon after giving his grudging approval to the idea of Laurel on the team. Felicity left with Diggle without ever meeting Oliver’s eyes that night.  
  
She’s not looked at him since then. Not when he showed up in her apartment, trying to explain. Not when she told him, _"I understand, Oliver. No need for explanations. Honest."_ Her eyes were somewhere in a spot between his left elbow and his left shoulder. She tried to smile then. But she never met his eyes. Not even when he lifted her chin, or tried to bend his knees and tilt his head to look into her eyes.  
  
Not any other time since then when he tried to offer her an explanation. Finally, after a few days of him trying to corner her in the lair, in her new office, in her apartment, in the streets near those places, she told him, staring at a spot just below his right ear, _"Oliver, stop. I need space. Please."_  
  
 _"Are you ever going to look me in the eye again?"_ he had asked desperately. _"Please, Felicity. Talk to me. Let me explain."_  
  
 _"Later, OK? We’ll talk later. Just — I need some time,"_ she had sighed, turning her eyes to the tip of his right shoe.   
  
So he gave her space. He’s been giving her space for the past month. She stayed on the team, of course. She still spoke to him about their missions. She still guided the team through their comms when they were out in the field. She still did her job.   
  
But everything that they had started to do together, hanging out, watching movies, TV show marathons. having non-work dinners at Big Belly Burger, going out for pizza, getting coffee together, her head resting on his shoulders, her hands clasping his for hours on end, the chaste kisses they gave each other on the cheek or on the forehead, all of that, _everything,_ stopped.   
  
So now he had been spending his non-Arrow hours  sharpening his arrows, training Laurel, pushing his body to the limit with intense workouts, just waiting for it to be Felicity’s promised _later_ , when she would talk to him and allow him to explain. Maybe, after, they can go back to what they were doing together before he opened his big mouth about having Laurel on the team. Maybe he can reclaim whatever ground he’s lost with her, regain her trust and have her spend time with him again.  
  
So he vowed to wait until she was ready. He knew it was pointless, that her not looking into his eyes really meant that she had given up on him. That him accepting the idea of Laurel on the team had hurt her. But he was going to wait. Maybe one day, some day, she would remember that she promised that they would talk _later_ and deem him worthy enough to fulfill that promise. Maybe he could prove to her that Laurel on the team had no impact on his feelings for her, Felicity, and she would eventually meet his eyes and smile at him again. He would wait. He had no other choice. He didn’t want any other choice.  
  
Tonight though, hearing her conversation with Sara, listening to her share her thoughts on love, he didn’t know if he could wait. Because he didn’t realise how deep Felicity’s hurt went. How disillusioned she felt about love, about hoping for him. How the knowledge that he could never deny Sara or Laurel confirmed everything she believed about not being loved back.

Those words, those thoughts from her mouth, they cut deep. In his heart. But more importantly, in hers, and he wanted nothing but to run to her and soothe the wounds that he had inflicted on her, and those that she had inflicted on herself.  
  
He could hear Sara try to comfort Felicity. To which Felicity responded:  
 _"It’s all right, Sara. Sorry, sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Just — gosh, how maudlin, right? Sheesh. Ignore me, please. I think I’m just hungry or something."_  
  
To listen to her dismiss herself that way hurt Oliver a little bit more. The tears kept flowing down his face.    
  
 _"Do you want to go grab something to eat then?"_ he heard Sara ask. He knew that Sara knew Felicity enough that sometimes the thought of food would temporarily ease Felicity’s mind.  
  
 _"Maybe later. Uhhh. I need to finish some search algorithms here. We’re trying to track this new crime syndicate that’s been dealing in what we think is a new strain of Vertigo. So I’ll grab something on my way home. Also, I have some chocolate bars in my locker, so I’ll be good until then."_  
  
 _"All right. Maybe we’ll grab dinner tomorrow night, Felicity?"_ Sara says tentatively. Oliver thinks she’s still unsure about Felicity’s apparent forgiveness.  
  
 _"I’d like that, Sara."_ He could hear the smile in Felicity’s voice. _God, I miss having that voice directed towards me._  
  
He doesn’t move or make a sound when Sara rounds the steps leading up from the lair and spots him. He doesn’t even panic. He just looks at her. She clenches her jaw and gives him a sympathetic and apologetic look. He nods at her and she continues her way up the stairs until she’s on the step below where he’s sitting.  
  
 _"I’m sorry, Oliver,"_ she says in a quiet voice. _"I didn’t mean to cause you and her any hurt."_  
  
 _"I know,"_ he whispers back. _"You didn’t. I did. This is on me."_  
  
Sara smiles sadly and shakes her head at him. _"Then fix it. For both your sakes."_  
  
Then she heads out of the lair.  
  
 _Yes, fix it, Queen. Now._  
  
He stands up and quietly makes his way down the stairs. Felicity’s not on her usual chair or anywhere in the lair, so he figures that she’s in the bathroom in the back.

He stays where he’s stopped — at the table where he sharpens his arrows and repairs his bow and quiver, waiting for her.  
  
She’s startled when she spots him as she comes out of the bathroom. For a second, she meets his eyes and then she looks away. Her eyes are red-rimmed and a little bit swollen, so is the tip of her nose. His heart clenches a little bit more at the visual proof of the crying he’s heard from the stairs.  
  
 _"What are you doing here?"_ she asks, quickly making her way to her desk.  
  
 _"You’re here. I spend a few minutes every hour to take a look at the team tracker you installed on all our phones so I could see where you’re at. I saw that you were here. So I’m here,"_ he says openly, honestly.  
  
 _"That’s not what that tracker app was designed for, Oliver. It’s not meant to spy on your team mates!"_. She’s now reaching for the drawer which he knows is where she keeps her bag. Her back is still turned towards him.  
  
 _"I’m not spying on my team mates, Felicity. I’m just checking to see where you are."_  
  
Except for a scoffing sound, she doesn’t respond. She’s now organising her bag, preparing to leave the lair, to leave him. He takes steps until her shoulders are within reaching distance. He drops his hands on her shoulders. He could feel her stiffen.  
  
 _"Oliver—"_  
  
 _"I love you, Felicity Smoak. I’m in love with you. Only you. Not because you’re loyal, or trustworthy or remarkable. Not because you’re good and you’re good for me. I just love you. I’m just in love with you. Even if you betray me or you stop being remarkable, or good, or good for me, I will still love you. I would still be in love with you. Nothing will ever change that."_  
  
 _"How much did you hear?"_ she says in a tiny voice.  
  
He wraps his arms around her shoulders, bringing her back to his front. Her head barely reaches the top of his shoulders, even in her heels.   
  
_"What did you say? About your paper? One is either loved or not loved. Can’t you accept that you are loved this time, Felicity?"_ he says, burying his face in her fair.  
  
 _"So you heard me being pathetic,"_ she responds, woodenly. _"You heard the story of how I was so un-loved that the only way I could understand it was to study it and take a course and write a paper on it. You heard me tell Sara that I want you to love me back but I know you would always love her and her sister more. You heard me cry. Poor, pathetic, Felicity Smoak. You don’t have to—"_  
  
He pulls her closer and buries his face where her neck meets her right shoulder, his face wet with tears.  
  
 _"Don’t. Don’t dismiss yourself that way, Felicity,"_ he growls and tightens his arms around her, upset that she would think that this was about pity for him. _"I love you. I will tell you and everyone else that every day for the rest of my life. I will show you how much I love you every day for the rest of my life. Maybe then you will believe it, believe me — that I love you, only you."_  
  
She’s crying now. Again. But her arms are trapped by his arms wrapped around her shoulders that she can’t bury her face in hands to hide her tears. Her tears are flowing down her face and into his arms. He’s crying, too. Her curve between her neck and her shoulder is pooling with his tears.  
  
He’s whispering, _"I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you. Only you, only you,"_ over and over on her skin.   
  
After a while, none of them could tell how long, they run out of tears. He then turns her to face him and uses his fingers and hands to wipe away her tears and tracks they made on her face. Her skin feels so soft, his fingers so rough against it. She keeps her eyes closed. Then he peppers her face, her neck, her collarbones, her hair with kisses, breathing her in, cupping her face in his hands.  
  
She finally moves to wrap her arms around his waist. She opens her eyes and meets his gaze. Big and blue, a bit red around the edges, but still stunning. His breathe catches. He’s missed this.  
  
 _"Missed what?"_ she asks, her voice rough. The huskiness sends shivers down Oliver’s spine — the good kind of shivers.   
  
_"You looking at me. Looking me in the eye. Seeing your eyes in full force. I love your eyes,"_ he says just as quietly.

They hold their gazes for a few minutes before she looks down and says, shyly:  
  
 _"You love me?"_  
  
 _"Yes."_  
  
 _"Will you be patient with me? I’m not sure I believe it yet."_  
  
 _"We’ll take our time, Felicity. I will wait. I will show and tell you for as long as you’ll let me. Just let me, OK? Just let me love you."_  
  
She nods and then buries her face in the centre of his chest. He tightens his arms around her, and bends so he can bury his face back in the corner between her neck and her shoulder. And breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original post: http://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/90957825523/no-more-illusions-part-2

**Author's Note:**

> Original post: http://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/90946110998/ff-7-no-more-illusions


End file.
